


Sugar and Spice

by RavenWhitecastle



Series: The Sinner and the Saint [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Gen, Gun Violence, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nightmares, Past Abuse, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 05:32:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13629678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenWhitecastle/pseuds/RavenWhitecastle
Summary: Reese and Finch's new number is a bit of a mystery. Lacey Graves, supposedly a pastry chef, didn't come into existence until 2005. Her obviously fake identity suggests that she's the perpetrator, but not everything is exactly as it seems. Will Reese and Finch figure out the truth before it's too late?





	1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a standard episode format short taking place post Elias season 1. No major spoilers. Detective Fusco makes a cameo.

Danté flew into the wall, bringing down some shelves with a crash. Growling, he dragged himself to his feet and lunged at John Reese. Reese dove out of the way at the last second. Danté hurtled into a table. Reese barely heard his phone over the commotion. Finally able to pick his gun off the floor, he pointed it at Danté, who froze in place. Glancing at the number on his phone, Reese hit answer.

“Mr. Reese,” Harold Finch’s voice greeted from the other end of the line, “I was beginning to fear something had happened to you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Reese panted, still slightly winded from the fight. “What do we have?”

“A very interesting case. You’ll definitely want to see this.”

“I’ll be right there,” Reese replied, before hanging up and returning his attention to Danté. “Let’s finish this.”

~

Finch had been right. The number the machine had spit out that morning belonged to one Lacey Graves. There was just one problem.

“It appears Miss Graves didn’t exist before the year 2005. There’s no information available.”

“What happened in 2005?” Reese asked.

“Miss Graves was admitted to DeGustibus Cooking School.” Finch taped up a picture of Lacey in a full chef’s uniform. “She graduated in 2009, and just last year she opened up a bakery on 9th street, Peach’s Pastries.” The photo of the storefront Finch put up was absolutely picturesque- a quaint looking shop with white, wooden tables and chairs out front and a red and white striped awning. “I thought that she might be using the SSN of someone deceased, but it isn’t listed under anyone else. Someone went to great lengths to have this information erased.”

Reese moved from where he’d been observing to stand in front of Lacey’s picture. “The question is why.”

“I want you to follow Miss Graves for the next few days, find out what activities she’s involved in outside of the bakery.”

Reese nodded and grabbed his jacket to go track down their number. “I’m on it.”

Finch called after him, “She’s at the bakery working right now. Be careful!” After the door had slammed shut, he muttered, “We don’t know what she might be capable of.”

~

Peach’s Pastries was a quiet little corner with white-haired old ladies coming and going every so often. But somehow Reese didn’t find himself getting bored. Lacey would frequently come out to the customers sitting on the patio, with a pot of coffee to top them off, and, more often than not, a hug or a hand on their shoulder or back. It was hard to imagine that she was anything other than the victim, and he told Finch as much.

“I don’t know,” Reese said softly, “She just doesn’t strike me as someone with sinister intent.”

“We’ve thought that about cases before,” Finch replied, “But there’s nothing to say that the bakery isn’t a front for something else.” Finch sighed. “Keep watching. I’m going to do a little more digging.”

Reese heard Finch hang up, so he contented himself with studying Lacey through the window of the bakery. It was obvious she loved to bake, or was at least very adept at it. She hurried around the bakery’s front end, tasting batters out of mixing bowls and adding a pinch of this, a sprinkle of that. It was mesmerizing to watch, like a dance.

Reese was almost disappointed when she flipped the open sign over to closed and shut off all the lights. He spoke to Finch as he gathered up his things and followed Lacy down the street. “She’s leaving now, don’t know where yet. Did you learn anything new?”

“I have one lead,” Finch answered, “I went into the bakery’s financials. The money for most of their orders comes from a single listed benefactor, Caldwell and Pendleton Finance.”

That gave Reese pause. “That’s a pretty massive benefactor for a small time confectionery. If the bakery’s a front, it might make more sense.”

Finch sighed again. “There’s no evidence that the bakery IS a front. All the money goes towards things like flour and sugar, all in bulk. The most expensive thing she’s bought in the last year is a new confection oven.”

Ahead of Reese, Lacey hailed a cab. He ducked into an alleyway to wait for the next one and replied, “But you don’t believe it’s just a bakery.”

“They could be trying to make it look legit. It’s possible someone fudged the records. You’ll have to get closer to find out what she’s hiding. If you’re lucky, she might lead you to some answers.”

Reese got into his own cab and pulled out his phone. After giving the driver instructions, he said, “Hey, Finch.”

“What?”

“There’s a little problem with your front theory. If Lacey isn’t just some innocent chef and the bakery is a cover for something, why go to and graduate from culinary school?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out. I’m hoping that some research into Caldwell and Pendleton will shed some light on the matter.”

“Yeah, me too.”


	2. Grease and flour an 8-inch pan

Lacey went straight to her home address and her cat, Albus. The night passed without incident, and the next morning, Reese follower her straight back to work.

Reese was preparing to enter the bakery as a customer to get more intel on the building. “Did it ever occur to you that Lacey Graves is just a pastry chef?” he asked.

“It did, but it doesn’t add up. It doesn’t explain why she only appeared in 2005. If it weren’t for the timeline, I’d be inclined to believe it.”

“Well, I’ll know more soon. I’m going in.”

The interior of the bakery was just as charming and quaint as the outside. It felt and smelled like a country home, with its white wooden furniture and the scent of fresh bread mingling with the scent of coffee. If it really was a front, it was a damn convincing one.

Lacey herself greeted him when he walked in. “Hello! Just have a seat wherever you like, and I’ll be right with you.”

Reese sat down at a table near the door and observed the patrons. For being very well funded, Peach’s Pastries didn’t seem to have a lot of customers. He recognized some of the ladies he’d seen the day before, sipping tea and smiling. Getting comfortable, he picked up the menu and perused it. It boasted a wide variety of cakes, pies, and other treats. They all sounded amazing, and despite himself, his mouth began to water.

Lacey stopped to check on the other patrons briefly before arriving at Reese’s table. “What can I get for you today?”

Smiling, he set aside his menu and said, “A coffee and a slice of raspberry cheesecake, please.”

“All right, I’ll have it right out!” she said cheerfully, bounding away.

Finch’s voice came crackling through Reese’s earpiece. “What happened to your rule about not eating on the job?”

Reese smirked. “I have to make my presence believable. If she’s really what you think she is, she might spook.”

“Good thinking.”

Lacey returned with a mug and a place with a slice of cheesecake, drizzled with syrup and fresh berries, and Reese fell silent. “Anything else I can get for you, sir?” she asked.

“No, thank you.”

“Of course.” She stopped at each table again, and laughed at something one of her customers said before disappearing behind the counter.

Reese took a sip of his coffee before speaking again. “Hey, Finch. Do you have a floorplan for this place?”

He heard the clacking of a keyboard in the background. “Yes, I’m sending it to your phone now.”

While he waited, Reese took a bite of the cheesecake. It was sinfully delicious and undeniably made in house, not store bought. “Say what you will about Lacey,” he murmured, “but she can really bake.”

A few seconds later, Reese’s phone dinged. He pulled up the blueprint of the building and started comparing it to what he saw. Display case, check. Supply closet, check. Front room coolers and fridge, check and check. The blueprint reference a walk-in freezer and full kitchen, which he could only assume were behind the counter through the doorway.

“I’ll have to sneak into the back to make sure the dimensions match,” he said.

“If you stick around until closing time, you might lose track of Miss Graves. You might want to call in some back-up on this one.”

“Who said I was waiting until closing time?”

Having finished his coffee and half of his cake, Reese stood and looked around, feigning curiosity, but no one was really paying attention to him. When he was sure no one was looking, he slipped behind the counter, through the door, and into the back.

Looking around, he saw everything was exactly where it should be. Stand mixer, counter island, and- congruent with the financial records- a shiny new stainless steel oven.

There was a creak behind him, and he turned to see Lacey coming out of the walk-in. She started a little when she saw him, but smiled when she recognized him as a customer. “Oh! Hi! Can I help you with something?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Yes, I was looking for the restroom, actually, but I think I took a wrong turn.”

“Oh, that happens to me all the time. You actually just passed it.” She pointed over his shoulder at the door he’d just come through. “Go back that way, hang a left, it’s dead ahead.”

Reese thanked her before slipping into the bathroom. He spent a few minutes inside to throw off any possible suspicion, and texted Finch. _No discrepancies in floor plan._ Then he texted, _Employee records?_

A moment later, he got a reply. _None listed. Only LG._

Pocketing his phone, Reese ducked out and took his seat again. Lacey was just saying goodbye to some customers as they headed out the door. Reese saw a square in her pocket that he assumed was her cell. Under the table he took out his own cell and paired. His phone dinged and he texted Finch. _Paired. Audio access?  
_ The reply came. _Yes. Strange. No recent texts._

Lacey came by to top off his coffee. “How did everything taste?”

He answered honestly. “Delicious. Just like my mother used to make.”

Lacey smiled even brighter. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

Reese hung around a bit, sipping his coffee and studying their number. No one else came in, and he didn’t hear any hushed conversation. An hour before close, he ducked out after leaving payment (and a generous tip) on the table. At closing time, when he disappeared into a cab to follow her, she went straight home.  
As he settled in to watch the building’s entrance, Reese addressed Finch’s text. “No recent texts?”

“Yes, it’s odd. There are a few remaining conversations with what appear to be old friends that she hasn’t deleted, but the texting tapered off a few months ago. Looks like Miss Graves is somewhat of a loner."

“You think that she cut herself off after getting involved in something,” Reese stated.

“You say that like it’s a far-fetched idea.”

“Because it is,” Reese said sharply. “Finch, I haven’t seen any evidence that Lacey’s more than a baker, much less a criminal mastermind.”

“That’s the thing about criminal masterminds,” Finch said, a bitter note in his voice, “You never know that they’re masterminds until it’s too late.”


	3. Melt 1/2 cup butter

The next day, Reese was monitoring the bakery from a top a building across the street. He was surprised to see a familiar face leaving the bakery, having not entered through the front.  


“I’ve got a present for you, Finch,” he said, “Guess who just walked out of Peach’s Pastries.”  


“A gentleman of questionable character?”  


“Even better. Harvey Caldwell of Caldwell and Pendleton Finance.”  


“One of Miss Graves’ generous benefactors,” Finch finished.  


“Pop the champagne. He didn’t enter through the front.”  


“Evidence they may have been conducting… business.”  


Reese tilted his head. “You don’t sound too happy about it, Finch. I thought you’d enjoy being right.”  


“I don’t like learning that there’s one more bad person in the world, and, to my knowledge, neither do you.” Reese could hear his partner pacing. “Any idea what they might have been up to?”  


“Nothing yet. You didn’t hear their business on the phone?”  


“There was nothing to hear. If they spoke to each other, she didn’t have her phone on her. But I researched Pendleton and Caldwell. Pendleton’s record is clean, but Caldwell’s past is a bit more checkered. My system is retrieving a whole history of files that someone tried to delete.”  


Reese smirked as he quoted Finch back to him. “Nothing’s ever really deleted.”  


“It would seem that Caldwell’s past and Miss Graves’ identity might be connected.”  


As Finch theorized, a black car circled the block. Reese had seen it before, twice that morning.  


“Looks like someone else is casing the bakery. Maybe they’re a part of Lacey’s side business.” When he didn’t hear a response, he looked away from his binoculars. “Finch?”  


“Mr. Reese, I think I’ve made a grievous error,” Finch said finally.  


“What kind of error?”  


“I’ve just retrieved a missing article related to Harvey Caldwell and his wife, Nancy Caldwell, announcing the birth of their child.”  


Reese raised an eyebrow. “Caldwell doesn’t have children.”  


“That’s what he wanted the rest of the world to believe. Here’s the birth announcement, mentions of a private education, but he didn’t want her life made public. Then, in 2005, all information on Caldwell’s daughter vanished.”  


Reese’s blood ran cold. “The same year Lacey Graves came into existence.”  


“Lacey Graves is really Emily Caldwell, heir to the Caldwell fortune, which means-”  


Reese finished for him. “Lacey’s life is worth millions of dollars.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse the short chapter, I'm a sucker for cliffhangers


	4. Remove from heat

The black car that had been circling the block seemed a lot more threatening now that Reese knew the truth about Lacey’s identity. Now he could be certain that they were not involved with her, but he feared that they were probably after her. He exited the building he’d been perched on and ran across the street at a dead sprint. There was no one up front, but the familiar sounds of a scuffle were coming from the back. Wasting no time, Reese hurtled the counter and dove through the door. Two men were trying to wrangle Lacey/Emily out of the building into the back of a waiting van. Her hands and feet were bound with zip ties, and they’d shoved a gag in her mouth.

One of the men saw Reese, but the other had his back turned. Before the criminal could warn his partner, Reese had knocked him out with a well place blow to the head. The kidnapper collapsed, and Emily fell to the floor with a muffled cry.

In his peripheral, Reese saw Emily crawling away, but his attention was immediately consumed by the second kidnapper, who was coming at him with everything his had. From his style, Reese guessed he was mercenary, gun-for-hire, but not a cheap one. He fought like a specialist.

He was still not match for Reese, who eventually got him in a headlock. Reese held him there until he stopped struggling, then dropped him to the floor. Standing, he looked around searching for Emily, before spotting her in the shadows. She was curled up on the floor with her back against the wall, wedged in the corner and shaking with fear. Reese could already see the angry red marks around the zip ties where she’s struggled to break free. She’d managed to pull the gag out of her mouth.

Carefully, Reese stepped over the unconscious kidnappers and dropped into a crouch to approach her with his hands outstretched. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, as softly as he could, “But we have to get out of here before someone else tries to.”

Emily regarded him with wide, watery eyes. “W-who are you?” she stammered. “What do you w-want?”

“My name’s John,” he answered. “I’m someone who knows who you really are, Emily.” Her eyes widened. “And I want to keep you safe.”

Her eyes went soft, and she swallowed heavily. “Y-you can protect me?”

Reese nodded. “Yes, I can, and I will, but you have to come with me. Will you come with me?”” After studying him a few seconds more, she nodded. “Good girl.” He produced a pocket knife and cut her bonds. “There we go. Now, can you stand?”

He held out a hand to help her up. She got to her feet but immediately collapsed against him as she cried out in pain. Gasping, she hopped on one foot and said, “My ankle- I think it’s twisted. I must have landed on it wrong when they dropped me.”

“Okay, that’s okay.” In one fluid motion, Reese bent down, put an arm under her knees, and swept her off the floor. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered as he carried her to the front of the kidnappers’ can and deposited her in the front seat. He closed the double doors in the back before hopping behind the wheel. The van was already running, so he pulled out of the alley and turned towards the nearest safehouse.

As he drove, he turned on his earpiece and addressed Finch. “I’ve got Emily, I’m taking her someplace safe.”

“How is she?”

Reese looked over at Emily. “A little shaken up, but I’ll take care of her. Two thugs tried to smuggle her out in the back of a van, which they have been courteously relieved of. I’ll let you know when we arrive.”

Giving Emily another onceover, he hung up and made another call. The phone rang a few times before Detective Fusco picked up. “You’re starting to make a habit of this.”

“Hello, Lionel.”

“Look, I’m starting to get some scrutiny from the higher ups, so make it quick.”

“I need you to run a plate for me,” he said, rattling off the license plate number.

“Fine. Am I allowed who you knicked it from?”

“How do you know I’m driving it? You’re not still trying to follow me, are you?” Reese teased.

Fusco scoffed. “Please. We didn’t start working together yesterday, cowboy.”

Reese’s mouth quirked at the nickname. “Text me when you find something,” he said, before hanging up and returning his attention to Emily. “My colleague is going to find the owner of this van and tell me who was after you.” She nodded in understanding. “I’m going to look after you until he does, and then I’m going to take care of them.” She nodded again, staring dead ahead at the street they were traveling down. She was still a little dazed, so her turned the heat up and pushed the gas a little harder.

They arrived at the safehouse without further incident- no chases or shady characters trying to hunt them down. Reese carried Emily upstairs and set her on the bed in the apartment’s master bedroom. “I’ll go find some ice for this. You shout if you need me.”

She nodded, and he went out to the kitchen and living area, heart heavy with concern. Even under a false identity with a corporate funded café, she’d led a relatively normal life up until that day. A kidnapping attempt had just shattered her reality. He felt like this about all of the innocent numbers- the people who weren’t caught up in shady business. In their eyes, he always saw the silent questions- _Why me? What did I do?_

Once he’d acquired an ice pack, he went back to the bedroom. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Emily was no longer on the bed. His mind went into overdrive- he shouldn’t have left her alone, he hadn’t heard anything, she couldn’t have gone far, had she bolted or was she taken. Over the pounding of his heart, he heard water running- the bathroom. The door was cracked open, and there was another noise overlapping the faucet. Setting the ice on the bedside table, he went towards the door and knocked lightly.

The door swung open easily under his hand, he saw Emily’s face reflected in the mirror. She was struggling to keep her breathing even as she scrubbed furiously at the marks left by the zip ties on her wrists, as she stood on one leg. The water in the drain ran pink as she rinsed the blood away.

Quietly, Reese came up behind her and eased the towel from her hands. “Easy,” he murmured, “Here, let me.” He gingerly took her hands in his and carefully went over the cuts. She let out a strangled whimper. He soothed her with a thumb tracing the back of her hand. “Hush, it’ll all be over soon.”

Sure enough, it only took him a few minutes to finish cleaning her up and bandage the abrasions. “Come on,” he said as he finished, “Let’s get you back to bed.” Effortlessly, he picked her up and carried her back. He set her down, and settled the ice on her swollen ankle. When he stood, he added, “Don’t move.” She nodded, and he gave her a meaningful look before stepping back into the kitchen to call Finch.

When Finch picked up, Reese started with, “Please tell me you have a lead on who could be after Emily.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Reese. The only people who would want to take her would be the ones who know her true identity. There’s a number of people, mainly reporters, but you’ll have to ask her if she’s told anyone else.”

“I’m not going to interrogate an innocent victim.”

“I’m not asking you to. We need information. Get it.” Finch hung up, and Reese set his jaw before returning to the bedroom.

Thankfully, Emily had not made another attempt to stand. Now, she was just staring off into the distance, arms cross in front of her chest. Reese sat on the edge of the bed she was facing, just out of her line of sight. “Emily,” he said. She met his eyes when he said her name. “I need to know if anyone else knows who you really are. Can you tell me?”

She took a shaky breath. “My dad. His partner. Family.”

“Is there anyone else you or your father might have told?”

“Some people at Caldwell and Pendleton, but they all signed nondisclosure agreements, it was this whole thing. But everyone at the bakery and in my apartment complex knows me as Lacey.”

Reese nodded. “All right. That narrows down the pool of people who could be after you.”

“I should probably thank you for saving my life,” she said with a sheepish grin. It faded before she asked, “You weren’t looking for the bathroom, were you?”

Reese chuckled and shook his head. “Not exactly.”

“And you didn’t come into the bakery for a piece of cake.”

“It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it,” he assured her, “but that’s not why I entered the bakery yesterday.”

“Did you know something was going to happen?”

Reese looked out the window at the city, where the mercenaries had probably already come to. “I can’t explain how or why. The less you know, the better. But yes. I had a source that told me you might be in danger.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

He met her eyes again. She didn’t sound angry or betrayed. She simply sounded curious. Finally, he answered, “Because I didn’t know for sure.”

Emily nodded like it made perfect sense. “Well, either way, thanks for helping me. I guess I shouldn’t ask where you learned to fight like that. And if I did, you wouldn’t tell me.” She teased him lightheartedly, as if she hadn’t been ambushed earlier.

Reese smile at her then. “You’re clever. Clever enough to be more than a pastry chef.”

She looked out the window. “Perhaps. But I don’t want to be anything else.”

“Not even heiress to a financial empire?”

“I suppose it was nice having money growing up. All little girls want when they’re young is a pony, or at least enough money to afford one.” She giggled and added, “All I wanted was an EZ Bake oven.” Her smile faded again and she murmured, almost to herself, “Harvey wasn’t too happy when I was more interested in cake decoration that the stock market.”

Reese studied her in the silence that followed. She looked so sad, in the fading afternoon light, and her eyes gazed off at something unseen on the horizon. Her lips were pressed tightly, and all signs of the cheerful hostess he’d seen at the bakery were gone.

After a second, she cleared her throat and tossed her head like she was shaking off bad memories. “Sorry, that was probably more than you bargained for. Enough about me.” She brought her good leg up and leaned on her knee. “Tell me a little about you. All I know about you is your name, the way you like your coffee, and that your mom used to make cheesecake.”

He smirked. “That’s more than a lot of people know about me.” Thinking of Harold, he quoted. “I’m a very private person.”

“Well, seeing as you know so much about me, I don’t think that’s very fair!” Distracted from the memories of fear and sadness, she seemed liked her companionable self again. “Come one. Tell me… three more things about yourself, and we’ll call it square.” He gave her a dubious look, and she conceded, “Okay, two.”

Sighing, he started to think. There wasn’t much he COULD tell her. His whole life, he’d been involved in the CIA and now he was working undercover on the run from the law. Finally, he settled on a fact that wouldn’t get her in trouble if she was ever questioned about him. “I can speak a handful of languages, fluently.” Leaning closer, he whispered, “And the less you know about me, the better off you’ll be.”

Emily furrowed her brow and pouted a little. “That really only counts as one thing, but you DID save my life. I’ll accept that answer.”

They were interrupted by Reese’s phone going off. Glancing at the contact, he said, “I’ve got to take this. Hang tight.”

Emily nodded, and Reese got up and left the room. “Hello, Lionel.”

“I hope you haven’t stolen anymore vehicles, Grand Theft Auto. It was enough of a pain in the ass to track the first one. I had to pull some strings at the DMV.”

“Did you get anything for me, or not?”

“Yeah, I got a name, Richy DeLano. He’s a pretty big name in organized crime, wanted for everything from arson to assault and battery. Looks like he’s the lapdog of every criminal head honcho in the city, along with a few others.”

“Others?”

“He’s a bad guy for hire, but he’s hired by more than just bad gus. He’s gone on trial for cases involving legal execs and CEOs.”

“Guys like Harvey Caldwell?”

“Sure. But the thing is guys like that are so lawyered up that the charges never stick. This guy DeLano’s pretty hard to pin down. How are you gonna deal with him?”

“The same way I do any other hitman. Thanks, Lionel.”

“Hey, whataya mean the same wa-”

Reese hung up before Fusco could finish, and immediately called Finch. “I’ve got a name for you, Richy DeLano.”

“The name sounds familiar,” Finch replied. “Do you want me to try to find him?”

“Yes, but first, I need you to track his financials, try to pin down his current employer. Whoever paid him is the one after Emily.”

“DeLano’s pretty high profile. If they’re after ransom money, why would they pay to have her captured?”

“Caldwell’s worth at least triple the going rate of even the most exclusive mercenaries. Whatever DeLano’s getting, Emily’s ransom would more than cover the fees.”

“All right, Mr. Reese. Go take care of Miss Caldwell, I’ll keep you updated.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To follow a short chapter, a really really long one!  
> Obligatory "Hello, Lionel" is obligatory


	5. Stir in sugar, eggs, and vanilla

It was almost dark by the time Reese was done with business. He popped his head into the bedroom and asked Emily, “How’s your ankle feel?”

She moved her foot experimentally. “Better. I think I can stand.”

“You must be hungry. Come to the kitchen and we’ll get you something to eat.”

The apartment wasn’t much, and the itchen was nothing more than a fridge, a stove, and a flat-top dishwasher with a table and two chairs crammed in next to the window. Still, Reese managed a decent meal as Emily sat by the window and watched.

“Bon appetit,” he said, placing a steaming plate of fettuccine alfredo on the table.

Emily eyed it appreciatively. “Now, I know all about cakes and cookies from DeGustibus. But I have GOT to know where you learned to cook.”

Taking the seat across from her, he said, “I told you, the less you know. Now eat up before the sauce starts to separate.”

Emily took a bite and hummed. “Delicious. You really are a man of many talents.”

Under his breath, Reese inserted, “You have no idea.”

Between bites, Emily struck up conversation. “I heard you on the phone. Not clearly, don’t worry, but am I allowed to ask who you were talking to?”

“A friend.”

“Cryptic.” She took another bite. “If you tell me about your friend, I’ll tell you a bit about mine.” She stuck her hand out to seal the deal.

“I thought you said we were even.”

“We are. I’m offering a trade.” She pushed her hand further towards him. “Are you in?”

He considered for a second, studying her. She gave him a look daring him to accept. Finally, he took her hand, holding up an index finger to keep her from interrupting his stipulations. “I will let you ask one yes or no question, no follow ups, and I can ask you anything I want.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but I’m curious.” She gave Reese’s hand a firm shake. “Deal.” She pulled away, and took a few moments to think before asking, “Is your friend the source that told you I was in trouble?”

Reese tilted his head and considered how to respond. “Yes and no.”

Emily almost dropped her fork. “What kind of answer is that?!”

Reese held up a staying hand. “No follow up questions.”

She glared at him jokingly. “It was rhetorical.” Taking another bite of her pasta, she said, “All right, your turn. I have nothing to hide.”

Reese thought he heard a tone of mockery in her voice as she cast a coy smile across the table. “You said you’d tell me a bit about your friend,” he began, “but no one else works at the bakery and you live in an apartment alone. I suppose my only question is, to which friend are you referring?”

Emily paused a second and twirled her fork around on the mostly empty plate. “You’re not the only one who knows how to be tricky. The truth is, I don’t have people I consider friends. My best friend is Albus, my cat.”

Reese regarded her as she studied her plate. There it was again, that distant sadness. “None of the customers from the bakery?” he suggested, “No one from the finance company?”

Emily shrugged. “They’re nice to me. And I’m glad for it. But I wouldn’t invite any of them over to play checkers, you know?”

Reese did know. The only person he considered a friend was Harold Finch, and he barely knew a thing about him. Their only connection was the machine, and they work they both did because of it.

“He’s my only one,” Reese said, surprising both Emily and himself. SHe looked up from her plate, and he explained, “My friend. The one you asked about. He’s the only friend I have.”

Emily expression flickered between curiosity and sympathy. At long last, she smiled. “Congratulations, you earned yourself a break. I’ll do the washing up.”

Reese was about to protest, but Emily was already out of her seat and putting the dishes in the dishwasher. He smiled to himself, and listened to her humming some unknown melody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 teaspoon of vanilla, 1 cup sugar, and 2 eggs for anyone who's wondering.  
> Also I have no idea how ankle injuries work, please forgive me


	6. Beat in cocoa, four, salt, and baking powder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the extra fluffy chapter, I know it seems a little out of character for John, but I couldn't help myself. Shamelessly self-indulgent fluff is shamelessly self-indulgent. Also sorry again for the extra short chapter.  
> 1/3 cup cocoa, 1/2 cup flour, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon baking powder, by the way.

Emily was yawning once the dishwasher was loaded. Reese guided her to the bedroom with a hand on her back, stopping at the door. She turned when his hand fell away. “Get some rest,” he said softly, “I’ll be right outside the door. No one will hurt you, and I’ll be right here if you need anything.” She nodded sleepily, and he shut the door behind her.

Reese moved the safehouse’s only recliner in front of the bedroom door facing the entrance. He pulled out his gun and prepared for a long night. He’d gotten used to sleepless nights, catching a few hours of shut-eye under strenuous conditions. When he’d worked with Stanton, they would take turns on the long jobs. Headed to their destinations, one of them would drive while the other slept. They would go for a few hours before trading off.

It had only been an hour since Emily had gone to bed when Reese heard a noise coming from behind the door. At first he wasn’t sure he’d heard anything at all. His earpiece was malfunctioning, or he was being paranoid again. But as he listened longer, the noise go louder. Standing, her pressed an ear to the door and listened hard. Emily was crying.

Softly, Reese knocked a few times, and the noise stopped. “Emily?”

When there was no response, Reese turned the handle, and pushed the door open. The room was pitch black, except for the light coming through the window from the city. Reese blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

After a few moments, he could see Emily curled up in a ball under the covers. He walked towards the bed soundlessly. The crying had stopped, but as he approached, he could see Emily’s shoulders shaking.

Setting his pistol on the bedside table, Reese knelt on the floor in front of her. “Emily,” he said again.

At last, her eyes opened. The light from the window reflected in her watery eyes, and another tear slid down her face. Reese cupped her cheek and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “I know you’re frightened,” he murmured.

She scoffed, sniffling a little. “You don’t know everything,” she said, her voice thick.

He tried again. “Maybe not. But I know you’ve been along for a long time. And I know you don’t have to be alone now. Not if you don’t want to be.”

Emily’s lower lip trembled, “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “If you want me to go, I will. But if you want me to stay…” He paused. “Ask me to stay, and I will.”

Emily sniffled again. “You will?” Reese nodded. After a second, she wiped her eyes and nodded back.

Reese stood and walked around to the other side of the bed. He stretched out, facing the door with his back leaned against the headboard. Emily rolled over to face him. Face half-buried in her pillow, she said, “Thanks for not asking what was the matter.”

He shrugged. “If it doesn’t have to do with the men that are after you, it’s not really my business.” He glanced down at her. “If you want to talk about it, you can.”

She shook her head. “Old memories, it’s nothing.”

“You should get some rest.”

She nodded again and closed her eyes. It wasn’t too long before her breathing evened out. Reese hoped they would remain undisturbed until morning.


	7. Spread batter into prepared pan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More shameless fluffiness. No regrets.

It was just after dawn when Emily started to stir. Reese had passed the hours going through the names in her phone and matching them to employees at Caldwell and Pendleton. When she tossed her head and murmured something, he set his phone aside.

“Emily?” he said, to no response. Her eyes were moving rapidly behind closed lids, and her breathing was getting faster. She was having a nightmare. “Emily,” he tried again. When she tugged at the blankets but didn’t open her eyes, Reese gathered her in his arms and tried to shake her awake.

She surprised him when her eyes flew open and she brought a write up to strike some imagined threat. He caught her by the wrist because she could land a blow. “Emily, it’s me,” he said, “You’re safe. Calm down.”

After thrashing for a few seconds, Emily’s wide eyes took in her surroundings, including Reese’s face. She studied him for a moment, her fists still clenched.

“You’re safe,” he said again, “It’s all right.”

Emily blinked a few times. Reese let go of her wrist when she pulled away, but still held her to his chest. She covered her face with her hands, so that he barely heard her when she whimpered, “God, this is so embarrassing.” She was starting to shake again.

Wrapping his other arm around her shoulders, he hushed her. “Nightmares are normal after a traumatic experience.”

She shook her head, moving her hand to cling to his shirt. “No, it’s not that.”

He looked down at the top of her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I didn’t dream about being chased by men with guns.” She took a shaky breath and explained, “I’ve been having nightmares for a long time. Like I said.” She sighed, turning to look over her shoulder at the sunrise outside the window. “Old memories.”

Before Reese could ask what she meant, his phone went off again. It was Finch. Tapping his earpiece, he greeted, “You’re up early.”

“Technically, I’m up incredibly late, but now’s not the time. The cameras picked up some of Delano’s men headed to your location.”

Reese sat straight up, pulling Emily with him. “How did they find us?”

“Looks like our friends are more resourceful than we originally thought. They locked onto Miss Caldwell’s phone.”

Turning to Emily, Reese held out his hand. “Your phone.”

She took it from her pocket, and he glanced at the screen. It was pinging out her location. Reese smashed it against the floor. Emily’s face darkened in understanding, and she closed her eyes, turning away.

“How far away?” Reese asked Finch.

“You have five minutes, maybe less. I’m sending a route to your phone.”

Standing, Reese hung up, grabbed his gun from the bedside, and held out a hand to Emily. “Come on, we have to move.”

“What’s happening?”

“They’re coming to try to take you again. I’m not going to let that happen, but we have to get out of here now.” He shook his hand in urgency. Pursing her lips, she took it, and he led her out of the safehouse into the stairwell.

They had barely made it down the hall when one of DeLano’s men rounded the corner and saw them racing away. He fired at Reese, who pulled them both into a doorway to hide.

“Get behind me,” Reese whispered. Emily obeyed. Reese peered around the corner. DeLano’s man was coming down the center of the hall. Reese reached around and shot him in one knee, just as another gunman reached the top of the stairs and returned fire.

Reese ducked back into the doorway. Breathing heavily, he told Emily, “On my signal, run the length of the hall and get in the elevator. Hold it until you see me and then let the door go.”

“But-” she started to protest.

“Can you do that?” he met her gaze, and she nodded. He waited a few seconds before shouting, “Now!” as he stepped out into the hallway. He barely heard Emily running away as he emptied his clip at the second gunman. The man ducked into another doorway, waiting for a pause to fire back. When Reese reached the end of his clip, the other gunman stepped back out and fired. Reese felt a bullet graze his right shoulder. Gritting his teeth, Reese reached for another clip. In one fluid motion, he reloaded, aimed, and caught the gunman’s leg. He kicked the gun away when he reached the hall’s end. There was one more man coming up the stairs. He barely saw Reese standing at the top before Reese’s bullet embedded itself in his foot, and he staggered backwards, falling back down to the bottom of the floor.

When no more men emerged from the stairs, Reese turned and ran towards the elevator. Emily saw him as he ducked into the foyer. She released the button, and he slipped in between the closing doors.

As the elevator descended, he tucked his gun away and adjusted his coat to conceal it. “When we get down to the first floor, we’ll take the service ext to the street. We’ll wait in the alley for the rest of those men to clear out.”

“You’re hurt,” she said, gently touching the ripped and bloodied fabric of his coat.

Reese glanced at the hole. “It's just a graze.” The elevator started to slow. “Once they’re gone, we’ll go to the car and get out of here.”

The elevator dinged as it came to a stop. The doors opened, and Reese guided Emily into the lobby, searching the room for more of DeLano’s thugs.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“I’m taking you to that friend of mine, on one will be able to find you, and he’ll keep you safe while I go find the man that’s after you.”

Emily came to a stop. “No.”

Reese stopped a couple steps ahead of her as he realized what she’d said. He turned back and stepped towards her. “You can’t stay here. DeLano, the man who sent those men, knows you’re here, which means his employer does too. When the team doesn’t check in, he’ll come looking, and you cannot be here when he does.”

Emily shook her head. “Dangerous people are after me. I won’t put your friend in danger too.” Her eyes drifted to his wound. “I won’t let anyone else get hurt because of me.”

“Emily, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, it’s very noble-”

She scoffed. “Like I said, you don’t know everything.”

The elevator dinged again, and Reese looked around before replying in a lowered voice, “This is what we do, my friend and I. We know the risks, but it’s out purpose to help, to save people.”

Almost inaudibly, Emily murmured, “Did it ever occur to you that I’m not worth saving?”

This gave him pause. “What?”

“I’m just a number to those guys, an amount in a bank account. Right? They want Harvey’s money. And without that, I’m a nobody. I’m a girl who works at a bakery and lives with her cat. Which makes me wonder why you’d want to save me in the first place.”

Reese took a second to process what she’d said. He closed the distance between them and put his hands on her shoulders. She looked into his eyes, and he said, “I have saved all kinds of people, from lawyers to bankers to mob bosses. They come from all walks of life. It’s not my place to decide who is worthy of being saved.” He paused to let his words sink in. “But either way, judge or not, I choose to save you. Understand?”

Biting her lower lip, Emily searched is eyes, and he let her, holding eye contact and willing her to believe him. Finally, she nodded.

He smiled at her and took her hand. “All right, let’s go.” He searched the lobby over his shoulder as they headed towards the service exit.

They were out in the alley when Finch called again. “Gunshots have been reported inside the building, is everything alright?”

“I met a few of DeLano’s friends. I left them on the seventh floor. Are there any more in the street?”

“No, you’re safe to bring her here.”

Reese gestured towards the street, and emily followed him to the car. He opened the door for Emily before getting inside himself. “I’ll send Fusco the address and have him bring the gunmen in. We need to find out who’s after Emily, now. Do we have a location on DeLano’s headquarters?”

“We will soon. I’m almost done tracking his financials. Bring Miss Caldwell to me and we’ll discuss a course of action.”

Reese hung up and sped down the street. He glanced at Emily. “You must be excited. You get to meet my only friend.”

Emily managed a smile. “I’m counting the minutes.”


	8. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes

Emily watched from a distance as Finch bandaged up Reese’s arm. Reese held back a groan when Finch touched the graze with disinfectant. He started talking to distract himself. “Get anywhere with those financials, Finch?”

“I traced DeLano’s most recent income to a shell company. It won’t be long before I trace the ownership. You really should stop throwing yourself in harm’s way.”

Reese closed his eyes. “Force of habit. So someone went to a lot of trouble to cover their tracks. Is there any reason aside from the legal repercussions?”

“If DeLano’s clientele is high profile upper class, any connections would result in public scandal, honestly, did you hurl yourself into the bullet?” Finch examined the depth of the wound, and Reese winced.

“He was protecting me,” Emily inserted. Both men looked towards her, sitting in a chair near the door. She was anxiously chewing on her thumb. “It happened while I was running to the elevator. Sorry.”

Finch’s mouth quirked in amusement. II don’t know that we’ve had anyone apologize for having their life saved.” She flushed and looked away. “Anyway, it isn’t your fault that our friend here can’t be counted on to stay… undamaged.”

Reese had a comeback prepared, but Finch jabbed him with a sewing needle. Gritting his teeth, Reese asked, “Where is DeLano now?”

Finch glanced over at his computer set up. “At a warehouse in Queens. They’re probably regrouping. I wouldn’t go in without back-up.”

“They’re already three men down. I have to get to DeLano to find out who’s behind this.”

As soon as he heard the snap of the thread being cut from the stitches, Reese stood up and readjusted his shirt.

“Ah- hey! I wasn’t finished!” Finch exclaimed.

“We’re running out of time,” Reese replied, grabbing his jacket. “The kidnappers have failed to get Emily twice already. If I was the person that hired them, I’d be getting pretty nervous.” He slipped his jacked on and reached for his pistol. “I’m going after DeLano. I need to find out what he knows.” He approached Emily as he fixed his collar. “You stay here, Harold will look after you.” Emily nodded, still chewing on her thumb. Reese knelt and added, “Soon we’ll have this all figured out, and you can go back to living your life. Promise.” She smiled behind her hand. Smiling back, Reese stood and went out into the night.

~

The warehouse was a dark little place tucked into an alley. Reese figured it was one of several scattered throughout the city for DeLano’s personal use. He’d built an empire out of being a hired gun. Finch had told him to tread lightly.

So Reese walked in through the front door.

The guards at the door were hardly a threat- they were now slumped against each other on the ground. Reese relieved them of their guns and stepped inside. He could hear muffled conversation drifting in between the shelves, all stacked with various amenities. Reese heard a voice saying, “The deal goes through tomorrow. We need to nail this girl down or we won’t get the rest of the dough.”

Reese turned a corner to see three men sitting huddled around an old poker table. He trained the thug’s guns on DeLano and announced, “I’m looking for my pal Richy, you seen him?”

The two henchmen stood and pulled their pistols on Reese. DeLano stood slowly and studied the intruder. “Looks like Tuggey and Jones didn’t do their jobs,” he said, referring to the guards now unconscious outside. “Or maybe you just got lucky.”

Reese smirked. “Anyone working for you today isn’t going to be lucky. I think some of your buddies got enough evidence of that.”

Reese could have sworn DeLano stifled a laugh. “And just who do you think you are, coming into my territory to challenge me?”

“I’m the guy who’s going to ruin your day.”

One of the thugs stepped forward to shoot. Reese kneecapped him when he saw the movement in his peripheral vision, and under his left arm, he shot the other gunman before he could react. Both men collapsed on the floor in agony, and Reese aimed both guns at DeLano. “Let’s find out how tough you are without your lackeys.”

During the shootout, DeLano had produced his own firearm, which he was pointing at Reese’s chest. “I think my .38 can speak for me.”

Rolling his eyes, Reese shot the pistol out of DeLano’s hand. DeLano clutched his bloodied fingers with a cry. He looked up with rage at Reese, who said, “Are you going to cooperate? Or do I have to shoot you again?”


	9. Do not overcook

While Finch was waiting for the computer to finish tracing the payment for the shell company, he made tea for Emily and himself. He handed her a mug and said, “Eight Treasures Tea, a Chinese herbal remedy. It should help calm your nerves.” She thanked him quietly and took the mug as he sat across from her. “Mr. Reese tells me your baked goods are incomparable.”

Emily blushed a little. “I didn’t go to culinary school for my health. But I’ve been working in the kitchen almost all my life.”

“Did anything draw you to be a chef?”

Emily smiled widely. “My mom. She baked all the time, all kinds of things. Pies, cakes, cookies, muffins. She’d sing while she did, and when I got older, she let me help until I started doing it on my own.” She paused. “It always made Harvey happy when he came home to fresh baked goods.” The light behind her eyes dimmed, and Finch noticed. There was always a distinct change in her demeanor when she talked about her father. Something nagged at him at the back of his mind.

Before he could question her further, his computer pinged in the next room. With a start, he set his tea aside and went to check. When he saw the results, his eyes widened. “Oh, my.”

~

On the other side of town, Reese was slowly breaking DeLano. He struck DeLano across the face before kneeling in front of the chair he was tied to. “You seem like an honorable man,” Reese said softly, maintaining eye contact, “So I’ll make you a deal. You tell me who your employer is, and I won’t leave you alone here to rot. I’ll call some nice officers to pick up you and your pals. If I think you’ve been useful, I might even remember to ask for an ambulance.”

DeLano looked sideways at one of his men, who was still passed out on the ground. Reese had thrown their guns aside and they were slowly bleeding out.

“Look,” DeLano said, spitting a bit of blood from his mouth, “The money came from a shell company, we were told not to ask questions.”

“Is that what you told your men? Come on, Richy, give me a name.”

DeLano pressed his lips together. “What are you gonna do with this information? He’s too high up the ranks. You’ll never touch him.”

Reese smirked, that dark smirk that lit up his eyes with crazy. “If he’s flesh and blood, I can touch him. And I plan on making him bleed. Now,” he said, bending one of DeLano’s good finger backwards, “Give. Me. A name.”

As DeLano started to writhe in pain, Reese’s phone went off. With a sigh, he let go of DeLano. “Don’t go anywhere,” he instructed, before stepping away and picking up. “This had better be important.”

“The funds came from inside Caldwell and Pendleton.”

“We theorized as much, they’re the only people who know who she is. How does that help us?”

“I found the origin account. Now, someone might have spoofed the IP address or hacked it from the inside, but-”

“Spit it out, Finch.”

“The money came from Harvey Caldwell’s account."

Reese’s blood went cold. Pursing his lips, he pushed DeLano in his chair up against the wall, where he pinned DeLano by the throat. “Why would Harvey Caldwell want to take out a ransom on his own daughter?” he demanded.

“What?”

Reese pinched the flesh between DeLano’s forefinger and thumb with his free hand, and DeLano screamed. “I won’t ask again! Why were you paid to kidnap Emily Caldwell?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! Listen, listen to me!” DeLano pleaded. “Yes, I knew the money came from Caldwell. He called me, send me a photo and a name, Lacey Graves. I had no idea she was Caldwell’s kid, honest!”

“So you didn’t know she was heir to Caldwell’s financial empire?”

DeLano shook his head desperately. “He told us that kidnapping this girl would make us all rich, but he didn’t tell us why. All we had to do was make her disappear, and send proof of life to a number, he didn’t tell us whose it was. He just said he would handle the rest.”

“Give me the number.”

DeLano looked over at the poker table. “The phone’s over there. There’s only two numbers on it. One of them is Caldwell’s.”

Reese smiled coldly. “Thanks, Richy. Say good night.” Before DeLano could say anything else, Reese bashed him in the head with the hilt of his own pistol, knocking him out cold.

Reese addressed Finch through his earpiece. “Did you catch all of that?”

“Yes, I did. I would wager Caldwell’s the one who programmed Emily’s phone so DeLano could track her.”

“That would explain what Caldwell was doing at the bakery. He was turning on her GPS and making sure she was there for DeLano to pick up.”

“I can trace the number from the phone and find out who they were targeting for the ransom.”

“I’m texting the number to you now,” Reese replied, holding the burner phone in one hand and texting on his cell with the other. “Does Emily know?”

There was a pause. “Not yet. How do I even begin to explain her kidnappers were paid by her own father.”

“Before I go after him, I need you to try. She might know something that DeLano didn’t.”

“There’s something else, Mr. Reese. I just plugged in the number from DeLano’s phone.”

Reese tilted his head. “That was fast.”

“It’s because it’s a number I’ve already investigated. It belongs to Grant Pendleton. Caldwell wanted proof of life sent to his business partner.”

“Emily might have some answers. I know it’s hard, but I need you to see what she knows.”

“Let’s hope she can shed some light on the situation.”


	10. Remove from oven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Mentions of a history of abuse.

Emily didn’t seem surprised to hear that Caldwell had paid DeLano to abduct her. Biting her lip, she stared at the floor. Finally, she said, “I knew something was wrong with Harvey. I didn’t really think he’d go this far, but I guess he finally snapped.”

The same shadow from earlier tugged at Finch’s mind. Leaning forward, he said, “You call him Harvey, not dad.” 

Emily met his eyes. There was fire behind hers. “He might be my father, but he’s not family.” Finch tilted his head. “When Mom got pregnant, Harvey made Grant my godfather. Harvey never treated me very well, and when Grant found out, he petitioned for guardianship and won. I was officially adopted when I was sixteen. We kept it under wraps so the press wouldn’t get a hold of it. When I applied to culinary school, Grant helped arrange everything so I could have a halfway normal life.”

“So Grant Pendleton is your legal guardian.” Emily nodded. “Is Caldwell trying to get you back after all this time?” 

Emily shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t spoken to Harvey since the custody battle. To be honest, I kind of thought he’d forgotten I existed.”

“Did he know about your identity? It looks like most of the company did.”

“He was informed. Didn’t seem to care. Yesterday was the first time I’d even seen him at the bakery, but he didn’t even stay long enough to say hi.”

Finch made a noise of disgust. “We figure he was there to prepare for DeLano,” he said. “Speaking of which, Mr. Reese, what is the situation with our friend?”

“Fusco’s going to pick up DeLano and his crew, but I overheard them talking. DeLano mentioned a deal going down tomorrow. Whatever it is, Caldwell’s going to be pretty desperate.”

Finch turned his attention back to Emily. “We need to keep you here until Caldwell is dealt with. As long as you’re free, you’re still in danger.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “He’s not going to go after Grant, is he?”

Finch pursed his lips. “I’m not sure. There’s no telling what he’ll do.” He glanced at his phone. “Mr. Reese, Caldwell is still at the office, but when DeLano doesn’t check in, he won’t stay there for long.”

“I’ll go track him down. Take Emily and find Pendleton, make sure no one is going to target him directly.”

Finch stood, and Emily did, too. “Let me know when you’ve got eyes on Caldwell,” he said, before hanging up and addressing Emily again. “Let’s go. It’s time to pay Mr. Pendleton a visit.”

~

Emily directed the taxi to Grant Pendleton’s house, a cozy looking two-story in the suburbs. Finch let her out of the cab and she took a deep breath.

“Been a while?” Finch asked.

She nodded. “After he helped me get the bakery up and running, we decided it would be best if we kept our distance.”

“He’ll be happy to see you, surely.”

Emily smiled at Finch. “Yeah, he will.” Taking another deep breath, she led Finch up the walkway and rang the doorbell.

A few moments later, a graying man with a white mustache and circular glasses opened the door. When he saw Emily, he froze. “Em…” he gasped, “What-”

Before he could finish his question, Emily threw herself into his arms. Grant held her close, looking over her shoulder at Finch.

Finch waved awkwardly and opted for one of his aliases. “Harold Crane, head of Sterling Security,” he said.

Emily pulled away, wiping her eyes. “Right, sorry. Dad, this is Harold. He… he’s helping me. They- him and his friend- they stopped something bad from happening.”

Grant nodded. With one arm around Emily’s shoulders, he opened the door wider with the other and let them both inside. “Please, come in, I want to hear everything.”

~

Reese was closing in on Caldwell’s location. Caldwell was exiting the building that held the financial offices when Reese rounded the corner in his car. “Got him,” he murmured. Stepping on the gas, he barreled down the road, almost hitting Caldwell in the street. Caldwell leapt out of the way at the last second, and Reese screeched to a halt, throwing the car into park and stepping out.

“What the hell?!” Caldwell was shouting, “What’s the matter with you!?”

“Funny,” Reese replied, “I was about to ask you the same thing.” Reese grabbed Caldwell by the back of the neck and slammed his head into the car’s roof. Caldwell was out in one hit. Silently, Reese bound and gagged him and tossed him in the trunk before speeding away.

He called Finch as he drove off. “Caldwell is secure. He was probably on his way to find DeLano.”

“Well done, Mr. Reese. We’re with Mr. Pendleton, we’re about to brief him.”

“Maybe he knows what Caldwell’s really after.”

“We’re about to find out.”


	11. Let cool completley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Mentions of a history of abuse.  
> Sorry for the extra short chapter.

Grant listened silently as Harold and Emily took turns explaining what had happened. Finch jumped in to change some details and keep Grant from learning anything about him and Reese. Emily struggled when she recalled the abduction attempt at the bakery. Grant held her hand through it all.

When they finished, he let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Harvey was…” he began, “He was always a little bit manic, but it made him a good businessman. It’s why I signed on with him in the first place. We built the company from the ground up. When Nancy got pregnant, Harvey boasted about his successor, how his son was going to be a better businessman than him. Then Em was born, and, well, Harvey came a little bit unhinged. He threw himself into the company, away from his family. Away from her. I tried to introduce him to some interns, give him someone to groom for the position, but he wouldn’t hear it. He wanted to pass on the name, not just the company. He was building a legacy. To him, Em was the beginning of his undoing. He became controlling, manipulative, and borderline abusive.

“One night, he went too far. Em came to me, shaking and in tears. I was appalled. I knew things were getting worse at the company. I had no idea how bad things were at home. That was around the time we transferred custody.”

“Why would Harvey come after her now?”

Grant sighed again. “The company’s been going through some changes. He wanted me to sell my shares, make it Caldwell Finances LTD. I refused. I knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it going on his own. Hundreds of people would lose their jobs. We drew up a contract to be signed tomorrow, with a division of shares prohibiting him from locking me out. I assume he was planning to trade Em for my concession- a hostile takeover, if you will.”

“But why hire DeLano?” Reese asked over the headset, “Why not just go after Emily himself?”

“He knew Emily would testify,” Finch answered, “If he isolated her, he could use her as a bargaining chip to assure that Pendleton never went to the authorities.”

Grant shook his head. “The way Harvey treated her was deplorable. I wish he hadn’t tried to hurt her again- she deserves better. But I can honestly say that Em is the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for keeping her safe.”

“Of course, Mr. Pendleton,” Finch said, “It’s what we do, after all.”


	12. Dust with powdered sugar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter from the perspective of Harvey Caldwell. (Personally, this is my favorite.)

Mr. Caldwell awoke to darkness. His head throbbed, and he briefly remembered being assaulted by a well-dressed man.

The darkness was replaced by blinding light, and he winced. When he opened his eyes, he well-dressed man was in front of him.

“Hey, wha-” Harvey moved to stand, but he found himself restrained. His hands were tied behind his back, and his ankles were bound to the chair he was sitting in. “What the hell?” he exclaimed, “What do you think you’re doing? Do you have any idea who I am?”

The man smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. The effect was terrifying, and Harvey’s blood ran cold. “Oh, I know exactly who you are, Mr. Caldwell,” the man murmured, “You’re the man who paid Richy DeLano to kidnap a girl named Lacey Graves.”

Harvey swallowed. The man had called her Lacey. Did he know who she really was? Feigning arrogance, he said, “So DeLano spilled the beans. You must be the one who got him and his goons thrown in in lock-up.”

“News travels fast,” the man observed.

“They never were very smart. But you, you seem like a very smart man, Mr…”

Harvey was a businessman. He could con his way out of anything, and nine times out of ten, the mark wouldn’t even know they were being conned. It was how he built his business, and it was how he planned to live to see the company again. He smiled cordially as he waited for the stranger’s name.

The stranger hadn’t moved since he’d removed Harvey’s blindfold. He answered, “You can call me John. For now.”

“John. You seem like a clever man, John.”

John smirked. “I’d like to think so. I’m clever enough to know that you don’t place a ransom on your biological daughter’s head.”

So John did know Emily’s true identity. Harvey shivered. Things were going south fast.

“You were smart enough to make the funds nearly untraceable,” John continued.

“A-a-and you seem smart enough to know a good offer when you hear it,” Harvey managed, “Listen, I’ll make you a deal.”

“I’m not so sure you’re in a position to be bargaining.”

“Listen to me,” Harvey pleaded, “You let me go and I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone, as long as you don’t either.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“A lot of money, if you tell me how to contact you. There’s a massive check with your name on it if you help me make all this go away.”

John appeared to think for a minute. “You’re offering me a part of the Caldwell inheritance. The same inheritance that would have gone to Emily had you not treated her so poorly.”

“No one has to know. Hell, I don’t care what you do with it, you can give it to her for all I care, but for the love of god, please don’t kill me!”

“I’m not going to kill you, Mr. Caldwell. That was never my intent. I intend to punish you in accordance with your sins.”

“Huh?”

“That company was your baby. More than your own daughter.”

“No, it-”

“You nurtured it and adored it while you neglected her. While I can’t give her back her childhood, I can take something precious from you.” Harvey closed his eyes- he felt sick. “I will remove every inch of you from that company,” John continued, “And give every penny to Emily. And when I’m done, Pendleton Finances will be the only thing left, and on one will ever do business with you ever again.”

“Please,” Harvey begged, “It’s all I have left.”

When Harvey opened his eyes, John was studying him. Harvey could have sworn that John was almost smiling, and there was something hostile behind those wide, blue eyes. “You should have thought of that before you abandoned your daughter,” he said at long last, “You did this to yourself.”


	13. Cut brownies into squares and serve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations, you now have a batch of homemade brownies.

Reese met Finch and Emily outside of Peach’s Pastries. They’d said goodbye to Grant and left him with the promise to return.

“Caldwell’s been dealt with,” Reese said as he walked up to the curb where Emily was sitting. “The cops will find him and everything they need to convict.”

“So it’s over?” Emily asked.

Reese joined her on the curb next to the street. “He can’t bother you or Grant from behind bars.” He studied Emily and added, “You can go back to your life as Lacey Graves.”

Emily chewed on her lower lip. “I’ve been thinking about that. I’m not sure I want to go back. Not full time, anyway. I love the bakery, and being Lacey. But I love being Emily Pendleton too. I want to spend some time with my family.” She chuckled. “I guess almost getting kidnapped really puts things in perspective.”

Reese nodded. “You can step out into the sun.”

Above them, Finch shifted his weight off his bad leg. “I’ve been meaning to ask something.”

“Be careful,” Reese warned, “It’ll cost you.”

Emily elbowed Reese in the side playfully. “Fire away. You saved my life, and my dad. I’ll give you a freebie.”

Finch tilted his head as he turned to look at the bakery. “You told me you used to bake to try and please your biological father. I would think that baking every day would remind you of him, the pains you went to for his approval.”

Emily sighed. “It used to. But I gave up on earning his approval years ago. So if I can make someone smile with my baking, it’s enough for me.” She looked back at Reese. “Speaking of which, you’re always welcome back for cheesecake and coffee, on the house.”

Reese smiled. “I’ll bear that in mind. Maybe next time, I’ll bring Finch with me.” Finch’s lips quirked into a smile.

“Can you promise that there will be a next time?” Emily asked as her smiled faded. “Please don’t just disappear and pretend we never meant. I meant what I said, my doors are always open. I just need you to come in. At least once more.”

Reese and Finch exchanged a glance. They would never know when the next number would come in, but there were days, few and far between, when they didn’t have any numbers at all. Finch thought of the moments he stole in the park, eating vanilla ice cream cones.

Reese stood and helped Emily to her feet. “Remember when I said the lestt you know about me, the better?” Emily nodded, resignation on her face. “That goes for Finch, too. Anyway, I can’t explain why, but we don’t get a lot of free time. There’s no way of telling when we’ll get a chance to sit down and drink coffee, if at all.”

Emily nodded. “I get it. You’re quite the enigma, John. You and your friend.” She pulled Reese in for a hug. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and she added, “There’s always a piece of cheesecake with your name on it, anyway.” Pulling away, she smiled at Finch. “Thank you. Both of you.”

Finch’s lips quirked again. “It’s no trouble, Miss Pendleton. To be frank, it was our pleasure.”

She smiled. “Thanks all the same,” she said, before ducking her head and slipping into the bakery.

Reese and Finch started down the sidewalk. “You think we’ll ever see her again?” Reese asked.

“Only time will tell, Mr. Reese,” Finch replied, limping alongside, “Only time will tell.”


	14. Epilogue

A few weeks later, Reese met Finch at the library. “Hey,” he greeted, “You wanted to meet, but you didn’t mention a number.”

Finch stood from his seat at his desk. “That’s because we don’t have one,” he said, “I figured that now would be a good time to get coffee.”

Reese smirked. “And cake?”

Finch smiled back. “Yes, and cake.”

They took a cab down to Peach’s Pastries, which was busier than usual. Finch cast a worried glance in Reese’s direction. “Is it normally this crowded on a Tuesday afternoon?”

Reese was looking up at the bakery’s sight. “No, but I don’t think it’s something to be worried about.”

They stepped inside, where many of the tables were full, except for the table by the door.

Emily emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate of brownies, wearing an apron around her waist. When she saw Finch and Reese, her face broke into a smile. Setting aside the brownies, she wiped her hands on her apron and came out from behind the counter.

“It’s good to see you!” she said, “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten me.”

Reese smiled. “I’ve been pestering Finch to come back with me for ages.”

Emily chuckled and went to the table by the door, where she removed a sign Reese hadn’t seen before that read _Reserved_. “Have a seat,” she said, “and I’ll get you some coffee.” Looking at Reese, she added, “That raspberry cheesecake is still waiting.”

“Then I’ll take that.”

She turned to Finch. “And for you?”

“Those brownies looked sinful, I will take one, a la mode.” He smiled at Emily and folded his hands.

“Good choice. I’ll join you in a moment.”

Behind the counter, she fell into a swarm of activity, and, after checking on all of her customers, she brought them their plates and a cup of coffee each. Reese couldn’t hold back a chuckle when he saw that Emily had, on top of the slice of cheesecake, drizzled the name “John” in raspberry syrup. Emily pulled up a chair to the table and sat as they tucked in.

Reese had already tried the cheesecake- it was just as good as he remembered. Emily watched Finch anxiously as he took a bite of the brownie. When he sighed with content, she sighed with relief. “Good?”

Finch nodded. “Very good,” he said, and Emily smiled.

Reese spoke again after a few seconds. “I couldn't help but notice that this table was reserved,” he said, “I hope we’re not going to inconvenience any important guests.”

Finch tilted his head. “Does Mr. Pendleton visit you here at the bakery?”

Emily flushed and look away, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck. “Dad comes down sometimes, brings his buddies from the company. That’s why it’s so busy in here, these are mostly Pendleton Finance employees, but… No. The table is not reserved for him.”

She looked meaningfully at Reese, and it took him a second to realize what she meant. “You saved a table for us.”

If possible, she blushed even harder. Finch stopped mid-bite and set his fork down. “You believed we would come back.”

She shrugged. “I wanted you to come back. I guess I thought that if I saved your table, the one you sat at the first time you came in, then… I don’t know, it would magically bring you back. What’s the phrase? ‘Build it and they will come’?”

“Field of Dreams,” Finch supplied, “‘If you build it, he will come.’ In this case, Mr. Reese.”

Emily shrugged again. “Well, I hoped he would bring you with him. If and when he came.” She looked at Reese, who was still enjoying his cake. “It’s good to see you again, John.”

He swallowed the bite he was chewing on and smiled. “It’s good to see you, too. You seem better. Happier, since the last time I saw you.”

She chuckled nervously, wringing her hands. “Yeah, I was… I wasn’t in a good place. I thought- we thought it would be best if we cut ties, keep the press from hearing anything about Caldwell or the custody trial. And it kept me out of the press, but it also kept me away from my only family.” She looked down at the table. “Kind of sad that it took such drastic circumstances to figure out that I wanted to be with them.”

Finch picked up his fork again. “I don’t know how much Mr. Reese told you about what we do.” Reese looked up at the mention of his name. “Some would call them rescue missions. Altruistic endeavors. But chiefly, what we do, Miss Pendleton, is we give people second chances.” He took another bite of his brownie, allowing his words to sink in. He took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “It’s unfortunate that many of those chances stem from compromising circumstances. But I’ve found, often, that compromising circumstances produce the most profound opportunities.”

He shared a smile with Emily as she took his words to heart. There was a gratitude behind her eyes that threatened to spill over.

After a moment, Finch pushed his now empty plate away. “To save myself from appearing totally pedantic, I must say that was a damn good brownie.”

Emily giggled. “I’m very glad you liked it. I hope it makes up in any way for getting John shot.”

Reese and Finch started arguing almost immediately. “I firmly believe there is nothing anyone can do to prevent him from doing whatever he likes, reckless or not,” Finch was saying. 

“We were vastly outnumbered,” Reese protested, “I don’t see you getting into any firefights, _Harold_.”

“Yes,” Finch replied, “And I believe that can be evidenced by my profound lack of _gunshot wounds_.”

Emily sat back, sipping her coffee and laughing. It was good to be back in the company of friends.

_fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're here at the end, thanks for reading. This piece was a bit self-indulgent, but I'm proud of it anyway. Special thanks to my friend Molly for encouraging me to post this. All my love!


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